Just returned from an IPFW perfomance of Babes in Arms with Katie. I mean, I was with Katie, not that Katie was in it. Although, as usual, she wished she were!

It was an intriguing show, which doesn’t mean it wasn’t entertaining for the most part. There’s kind of an unusual story behind this – most of us associate this title with the 1939 Garland-Rooney film, but as was often the case in those days, the film retained little of the theatrical version – only two songs, as a matter of fact. But even the original has its ups and downs and mysteries, and has been different things over the years. I’ll let the Lorenz Hart site take it from here: "Unwieldy splendor" is right. The book is not stellar, and the second act is really pretty difficult, with a French aviator crashing nearby to save the day. Somehow. But the political aspects were fascinating, indeed. There are moments in which what’s going on onstage is a weird, subtle microcosm of 1930’s political discourse. In one set piece, the group of kids must decide how to organize themselves. Should the rich guy call all the shots? Should they be Communists? How can they fashion themselves for survival in this new strange world where they’re on their own, without financial security? It’s fast and gag-filled, and not Odets agitprop, but the Depression context looms, nonetheless.

Rodgers and Hart’s Babes In Arms has never been quite what everyone thinks it is. It was the hit of the season when it opened in 1937, running nearly 300 performances, but essentially vanished thereafter. Little thought was given to the preservation of musicals in the 30’s; a show either hit or missed and it was on to the next one. Between 1934 and 1940, three years to either side of Babes In Arms, Rodgers and Hart wrote nine Broadway musicals and four film scores, so there wasn’t much time for looking back. Most of us were introduced to Babes In Arms by the 1939 Mickey & Judy movie, which retained only the title and two songs from the Broadway original (and one of them merely as underscoring). In the late 50’s an entirely new book was written with the songs reordered, and that version has been performed ever since. Several attempts have been made to rework the original book into a more contemporary view of the 30’s, but have either failed or never seen the light of day. Last year we were approached by Aubrey Berg, Chair of the Musical Theatre Department at the esteemed University of Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music.

He wanted to present the original 1937 version of Babes In Arms, as he so succinctly put it, "in all its unwieldy splendor." Berg hadn’t determined what the musical should be but wanted to rediscover what it really was. That notion appealed to us immediately. CCM musical director Roger Grodsky, with restoration expert Larry Moore and R&H Director of Music Bruce Pomahac, began coordinating and assembling Hans Spialek’s original 25 piece orchestration, a meticulous process that took the better part of a year. When a few of us trouped out to see the show in January of ‘98, it proved to be quite a revelation. We knew that this quintessential "Hey, kids, let’s put on a show!" musical boasts one of the greatest scores ever written, including such standards as "My Funny Valentine," "Where Or When," "The Lady Is A Tramp," "Johnny One Note" and "I Wish I Were In Love Again." What we didn’t know was that the book, which is wildly satirical, surprisingly topical and a bit peculiar, still works like gangbusters.

Babes In Arms is about a group of youngsters who ply their showbiz aspirations in an attempt to avoid being sent to a work farm for the summer. One of its many fascinations is the way in which the more raucous virtues that typify musical comedies of the 30’s are peppered with socio-political satire that has continued to resonate for six decades. For instance, the son of a wealthy Southerner agrees to bankroll the kids’ production on the condition that the two black kids (roles created by the legendary Nicholas Brothers) not appear in the show. Of course the rich kid gets his comeuppance. And in an ongoing and hilarious riff on socialism, one of the boys is all for "sharing the wealth" when he’s broke, denounces the notion as soon as he has a couple bucks, and ultimately returns to his Bolshevik convictions when his fortunes fade once more.

Another element that was kind of startling was, well, philosophical. The main male characters was, for some reason, a student of philosophy. Shopenhauer gets mentioned. One of the running gags is how, at crisis moments, this kid declares himself identified with one philosophical school or another. "I’m a hedonist!" "I"m a pragmatist!" and so on.

I’m thinking that didn’t make the film, and I’m wondering about the racial element, as well.

Finally – hearing some of this music in context was enlightening. "My Funny Valentine," for example, gets a whole other level added to its already complex lyrical and musical mix. It’s sung by the main female character after a spat with the male lead, whose name happens to be Valentine. The spat is over the rich kid’s refusal to let the black kids participate – the female, Billie, has acquiesced, and argues with Valentine, accusing him of being an idealist (remember he’s a philosopher!) and impractical. After she marches away from him, furious, she sings this song. Interesting edge, eh?

So, a pleasant evening – energetic performance, vigorous tap dancing and great music, especially one of my favorite Rodgers and Hart songs, "I Wish I Were in Love Again."

Yeah, a lovely time was had by all: me, Katie and about 200 old people. What more could you want?